The Death Eater's Daughter

Chapter Twenty-Three - The Fall

Luci saw Harry plunge to the floor, clutching at his face and moaning. And something snapped inside of her. Her vision went wobbly and muted.

She tore out her wand, aimed it at Dudley's throat, and swung him effortlessly into the air.

The round boy was pressed into the wall, his palms open helplessly, his eyes wide with horror.

"Now that wasn't very nice," she heard herself spit angrily.

Dudley was shaking his head frantically. What had she done...?

Then it hit her. Dammit, she was in love with him.

She knew it, because these were the same feelings, the same blackness that had rushed through her when Mark had been attacked. And, once again, these feelings were directed toward someone that she simply could not have. How could she let this happen?

Her eyes had slammed shut before she could stop them, and she was forcing herself not to crumble to the floor in sobs. After a few deep breaths, she reattached her mask, just scarcely, and looked at the hefty boy once more.

"I'm sorry, Dudley. Harry is very important in our world. I can't have you hitting him. Do you understand?"

He nodded. She felt horrible for flipping out on him. But she couldn't let either of the boys see what had happened.

"Now," she went on shakily, "I think that we can forget that this ever happened, yes?"

Dudley's cheeks shook in another nod.

"Good," said Luci heavily. "I appreciate it."

She dropped her wand slowly, bringing Dudley back onto his feet. He stayed where she'd left him, quaking.

Then she turned to Harry, who she almost couldn't bear to look at, and commanded, "Episkey."

His jaw cracked audibly into place, and she snapped, "The Cloak, Harry."

He was immediately on his feet and throwing the material over both of them.

"Thanks again, Dudley," Luci called to the pitiful boy that they were leaving behind. It was all she could think to say. "And don't worry about those nightmares."

God, she felt awful. She felt like everything was wrong.

Harry had led her back outside and closed the house behind them.

She couldn't look at him, but she did bitch, "That went well."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

And she hadn't wanted to hear his voice. A tremor went through her.

She took a deep breath and managed, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks. Are you cold?"

"What?" she asked abruptly. "No. Why?"

Oh, shit, could he tell what was going on inside of her? That she... that she... She nearly whimpered at the thought.

"You're shivering," he told her.

"Oh," was all she could choke out.

She couldn't believe this was happening. And she'd let it! Why couldn't she have just stayed away from him? Or better yet, told Dumbledore to go fuck himself and stayed in Arizona? What was she going to do now?

Well, she supposed that she was going to suffer extraordinarily. Nothing could come of this but pain.

They'd been walking in silence for a few minutes when Harry piped up, "Oh, here!"

She glanced sideways wearily and he pressed the Professor's Pass into her palm. His skin scorched hers, and she nearly snagged her hand away.

"Thanks," she muttered.

If she kept acting like this, he would know something was wrong. She had to say something. Anything.

"So you aunt's a witch, eh? You never told me that."

"I didn't know," he answered.

"Maybe she's not," speculated Luci listlessly. "Maybe she wants to be. Dudley made it sound like she couldn't do magic."

He didn't say anything. Fantastic. It was just a perfect time to be silent. Her stomach churned and she thought she might throw up.

Instead, she spewed, "So you found the letter?"

"Yes."

How could he be so inarticulate, when she was trying desperately to maintain a normal conversation in order to avoid some kind of seizure of panic?

Perhaps she could provoke him into talking. "Notice how I didn't demand to know what was in it."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry replied playfully.

Her stomach soared and she inched away from him frantically.

He didn't notice and went on, "Hey, thanks for your help. You were brilliant! Sounded as if you really cared about fat old Diddykins."

They were so mean to each other. Just like him and Draco.

She bit, "I did care."

"I don't understand you!" he said incredulously. "Besides, you threw him!"

Luci shut her eyes on the memory.

"Only because he hit you," she explained unsteadily. "And you can't help but pity a boy like that. He seemed really tortured by those nightmares."

Just like you, she thought. Because you're not that different. And neither are you and my brother.

"He deserves a lot worse, believe me," responded Harry hatefully.

"Sometimes, you have to put yourself in someone else's shoes," said Luci jadedly. "Just because a person has treated you badly doesn't mean that they don't deserve any compassion.

He gave her a look of disbelief, but then commented, "And I didn't attack him. It was Dementors."

She didn't know why she felt relieved. He still spoke Parseltongue.

"That explains a lot. I wouldn't have pinned you as the attacking type."

"I'm not," he grumbled.

She was still feeling so bad about Dudley. She had truly wronged him, and she wasn't sure he'd deserved it. She had just... Well, never mind.

"Poor kid," she allowed. "What do you think they feed him?"

Harry laughed, and her heart skidded in her chest.

Then, as they had reached the alley, he asked, "Ready?"

"Uh huh."

They counted to three together and found themselves back in the familiar entryway of Grimmauld Place.

Luci's first instinct was to dart up to her room and hide forever. Except that when she got there, she'd be able to ruminate over this, and she didn't want to, and absolutely couldn't, really.

But none of it mattered at the moment, because she heard a voice demand, "Where the bloody hell have you been with her?"

She looked up and her eyes landed on Ginny, who looked incensed, and yet, still stunning.

But Harry's eyes were on Luci, and she could barely meet them to give him a fretful grimace.

Ginny's voice came again, barking, "I know you're both under that sodding Cloak! I heard you Apparate!"

And then, the protection of the Cloak was gone, and Luci felt naked.

Could Ginny see it?

She had to get the fuck out of here.

"I'll leave you two alone," she nearly cried as she ran past the red-haired beauty.

But her trouble wasn't over.

She was only in her room for a few minutes, sobbing on the bed, when Draco burst through her door.

He stopped when he saw her, and the fury melted from his face.

"Why are you crying?"

She shook her head to clear it. "Um... slammed my finger in the desk," she choked, clutching at her hand.

"Girls!" he seethed, and the anger was back. "How was your little outing?"

"Fine," she sniffled.

"Find what you were looking for?" he asked forebodingly.

"Draco," she sighed tearfully, "just tell me what's wrong."

"Why don't you tell me something for once?"

"What are you talking about?" she frowned.

"Where did you really go?" he insisted harshly.

"To get that letter for Harry."

"By yourself?"

"Yes."

"Tell the truth!" he yelled suddenly.

She nearly tumbled off of her bed. "That is the truth!"

"You're lying!" Draco bellowed, livid. "I heard Weasley's sister say you'd gone somewhere with Potter!"

"What does Ginny know?" Luci threw back, stunned by her brother's reaction.

"Explain yourself!" he roared on.

Then she got heated too. After what she'd been through already, and he was doing this...

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Draco!" she cried. "I'll go where I please!"

"But POTTER?" he countered, wounded. "I deserve to know why you're consorting with the enemy!"

"The enemy?"

"We talked about this! This is the worst thing you could do to me!"

Draco threw his hands into the air. She saw that his eyes were red.

He went on, "What are you doing, Luce? What's going on? Please."

The tears were pouring out of her eyes again. She loved both of them. Immensely. Differently. Very differently. But immensely.

"Listen," she blubbered, "sit down. Just calm down and we'll talk."

"You're not calm," he pointed out.

"I know." She sucked in a wet breath. "I don't like fighting. Especially with you."

He sighed. "Just... stop crying, will you?"

"Yes," she agreed. "Yes, I'll stop crying. If you'll give me a chance to explain."

"I don't know how you can. You lied to me. You..." His face contorted in pain. "You betrayed me."

"No!" she exclaimed. "I would never, Draco!"

"Then how could you?"

Her brother looked so... so broken. And it was confusing.

"It's not what it looks like," she assured him. "The only thing I lied about was that Harry was going with me. He had to. But I didn't wanna tell you, because of... well, this."

"This?" he echoed.

"You just... loathe him. And I didn't want you exploding at either of us. Like this."

"Yeah, I loathe him. You said you did too."

"I dunno. It doesn't matter what I think of him. I just said I'd help, and I did. It was nothing more than that."

"I can't even believe you now," said her brother, calmer. "You've lied to me once. You'll do it again."

Yes, she would do it again. Many more times.

"Draco..." she started. "This is the truth. He needed help. I helped him. I didn't actually spend any time with him. I spent the whole time talking to a bloody Muggle so that Harry could look through the house. We hardly spoke."

Well, that much was true anyway.

"Really?" asked her brother, but he didn't appear satisfied yet.

"Yes, really. Why would I ever do anything to betray you? I... I care about you, and even if I didn't, your interests are my interests."

He looked at the floor and he didn't speak for a long while. She waited, rubbing at her inflamed eyes.

Eventually, he breathed, "I'm going to have to think about whether or not to forgive you."

"Fair enough," she nodded.

"Or to trust you again."

Luci sucked in a shallow breath, new tears emerging. "I hope you will."

Draco clenched his jaw. "Stay away from him from now on."

"I will," she said, and she hoped with all of her being that it was true, even though she knew it probably wasn't.

Then he marched out, leaving her in such emotional chaos that she couldn't think straight.

She used her wand to lock her door, and then she combusted into violent sobbing. There was nothing left to do.